Child of the Opera Ghost
by IamthePhantomoftheOpera
Summary: Erik takes Christine to the fair. They come back with a child. A child with a skull for a head. How he was raised. Stupid description. I know. Just read it? Please? Chap. 1 BETAed! Erik gets a a HUGE surprise around chapter five...
1. Aaron

Lots and lots of thanks to my beta, Lorien Urbani!!!!!!!!!

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I am taking her to the traveling fair. I know how she loves them. And besides. I need to prove something to myself. I cannot have a phobia. I refuse to. I decline. It isn't possible. The opera ghost does not have a phobia. It cannot be. Therefore, I am taking her to the fair. Then, that annoying little voice in my head. 'A phobia is an unreasonable fear. You have every reason and more to be afraid.' 'But she likes the fair anyway.' I argued. The voice growled and went away for the time being.

Christine had come back to me a simple two days after she went off with the foppish viscount. I really didn't blame her. I don't know why she ever chose HIM over ME in the first place. Heh heh. Heh heh heh. Alright, maybe I do. Too bad. Anyway. I'm taking her on her birthday. Which is today. Erm... Just then, a sleepy Christine walks in to find me rolling around on the floor arguing with myself.

"Er, Erik?" she asked. "Is something the matter?"

"No," 7! I answered, winning my mental argument, getting off the floor and dusting my usual formal wear off. "I have a surprise for your birthday!" I said. 'Now you've done it. You're going to the fair whether you like it or not. "Past, the point of no, return."' 'Oh shut up.' I replied tiredly. "We're going to the fair!" Christine jumps up and down happily, then calms down and looks at me.

"Oh, Erik, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, you know,"

"Well, I don't,"

"Well, you should, I actually did know, but I didn't want her to know I had been thinking about that. This was HER day.

"Well, I don't,"

"Well, you should,"

"WHY DON'T YOU JUST TELL ME?!"I finally exploded, exasperated.

"Well," she answered in a small voice, "what about your… your…"

"My what?" I asked, as gently as possible. I had scared her with that outburst.

"Your face! Your history! Your past! What if you lose control?? I can't lose you, not ever, ever, ever!"

"I promise I won't do anything unless I have a good reason. Now let us go, the cab is waiting outside." We went outside. There was the cab, as I expected, the driver tapping his fingers on the edge of the box impatiently. Christine and I got in.

"Take us to the Gypsy fair, please." Christine gaped. She had thought I wouldn't go through with it. When she saw how calm I was, however, (outwardly, anyway), she subsided to bouncing in happy anticipation on the seat. I smiled at her antics. Then, the driver said, (comma – introduction to direct speech!)

"We're here." I got out, resisting the urge to knock him out so I wouldn't have to pay, and dished a few coins into his hand. He smiled and got back into the cab. I watched my lifeline disappear down the street.

We walked into the crowded camp. People shouted at us from all sides. I felt overwhelmed and clung to Christine's hand like a child in spite of myself. Luckily, she was too happy to notice. First we went to watch the fire eaters, then the knife jugglers, then the animal show, and finally, I saw a tent. Just as I was beginning to get used to the fair. Just as I began to loosen my grip on Christine's hand. Just as I was starting to think it was just that one fair that did bad things. The sign on the tent said: "Child from Hell." Christine saw it, but not before I had started pulling her towards it.

"Oh no, Erik. Let's not." It was almost the first time I had not listened to my angel. The first time, well, let's just say it involved the lake and swimming and wishing I had listened to Christine, but not before I remembered the hard way that I kept an emergency lasso at the bottom of the lake. Oh yes. It also involved my ankle. Anyway, enough of that. So, we went into the tent, and I began breathing heavily. I started to clench my body reflexively. Christine noticed and tried to pull me away, but I would not leave. Not until I had done something very important. What made me so angry? A boy, no more than four or five, was in that tent. His face was like a skull, and he was locked up in a cage. A Gypsy was beating him, and everyone was laughing. I started to reach under my coat for the Punjab Lasso, but then remembered that I hadn't brought it with me because I promised Christine that I wouldn't kill anyone anymore unless it was completely and utterly necessary. Curses. Nobody had noticed us standing in the opening yet, but they might soon, and I wanted to take advantage of that. I couldn't lose my element of surprise. I let go of Christine and snuck up behind the person. He had left the door to the cage open, and everyone was so busy watching his crimes that no one yet noticed me. Their mistake, to my benefit. I crouched, felt like a wild cat stalking its prey. Then, I pounced. I was on his back, hands around his throat, squeezing, squeezing, the man gasping, the people screaming, some trying to run in, help the man, but the little boy understood what I was doing for him, closed the door, and I was whispering in the man's ear,

"I am the angel of crime. You have committed an atrocity so great you shall never be forgiven. You must swear that you shall never do such a thing again, and let this boy go, and I will go. Do you swear?" I almost laughed in spite of myself. Angel of Music, Angel of Crime, they were getting closer to the truth every time. The man choked out,

"I swear! I swear I will never commit a crime again!"

"Good." I let go of his neck, dropped lightly to the ground, and went to where the boy stood fearfully.

"Hello, little boy. I suggest that we get out of here while we can, don't you agree?" He nodded, and I picked him up and carried him out. The people parted for us in terror, all the way back to where Christine stood in a similar state.

"My angel, I think it would be wise for us to leave." The people were beginning to get over their shock and gang up on us. Christine nodded dumbly. We walked out, me still carrying the little boy, and walked quickly out of the fair, trying not to pay attention to the fact that more and more people were slowly ganging up behind us. I wished we were closer to home. We needed to disappear. We came to the street and hailed a cab, making sure the boy's face was turned inwards, towards me. We really needed a cab right now. The driver stopped his horse, and we got in.

"Take us to the opera house, please." The boy began to turn, but I gently put his face back in my coat. We COULD NOT have the driver see him.

"Here we are," the cab driver said. We all got out, gave him a coin or two, and were about to leave when he asked with a grin,

"Hey, have ya' heard of the opera ghost? Hear he likes to steal children and boil 'em and eat 'em for his dinner. Be careful with the kid there." He nodded toward the boy I was still carrying. And then, with a happy click and a snap of his reins, he drove off, laughing. Christine looked at me and was surprised to find me perfectly calm. She forgot that when I am maddest, I grow calmest.

"Let us go inside." I told her. She nodded, and we entered through a trapdoor in the side. We came to the house, and I sat the boy down on the bed.

"Now, boy, what is your name?" He looked at me with big fearful eyes, and I decided to let Christine try. I had something important to do, anyway. I looked back at his face, estimating its size, and got some extra mask material. As I worked, I wondered if this was really a good idea. Then I decided not to make him wear it. I would put it on him, and if he took it off, so be it. If he left it on, so be it. His choice. I was finished. I walked back over to give it to him, and was surprised to find Christine bouncing him up and down on her knee, and him laughing. As soon as he caught sight of me, however, he immediately sobered up, and went and hid behind Christine fearfully. I sighed. How could I raise a boy who hides behind my wife whenever I come in the room? I sat on the bed next to him.

"Hello, little boy." He looked at me fearfully.

"Are you the Opera Ghost the driver said about?"

"Talked about," I automatically corrected. "The driver talked about." Then it dawned on me what he said, and I looked over at Christine for help. She shrugged, then sent me a look which said, 'This is your doing. Say something.' I sighed, then turned back to him.

"Listen, no one is going to boil you, and most certainly not eat you. I promise."

"But are you the Opera Ghost?" I looked over at Christine, making it clear that I knew I had it coming, but I truly did not know what to do. She rolled her eyes and turned around to the little boy still eyeing me fearfully.

"We can discuss this later. But now, what is your name?"

"Don't got no name."

"Don't have a name," I corrected once again.

"Well then, we'll just have to choose one, won't we?"

"I like Aaron," the boy said. Or rather, Aaron said.


	2. John Bell and Rabidness

YAY!!!!!!!! I UPDATED!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry I took so long. So here is the next chapter. Please review. NOTE: if you want my disclaimer, I'm pretty sure I put it in the last chapter.

Oh yeah. Review replies. Sorry. Forgot.

**Stateofmind7337**: Yeah, I hope it will get funnier here. I couldn't really think of how to make that part funny.

**GuardianoftheMorningStar**: Thanks. I did continue! I'm so happy!

**BleedingHeartConservative**: Yeah I know it's a bit random but if I didn't do that, we wouldn't have the story. And then I would be sad. Because I wouldn't have any reviews.

**FIVE YEARS LATER**

"Dad?" I rolled over tiredly, my light sleep disturbed by Aaron's ten-year-old voice.

"Yes, Aaron?"

"Well, I, er, kinda went into the mirror room," (I had never seen any cause to call it 'the torture chamber' or tell him it's use) "and I _know _I'm not supposed to, but there was screaming coming from inside of it and so I went in and it was deathly hot and there was this guy and his eyes were all wide and crazy, kind of like Caesar's when I tried to make him go into the lake- oh wait, I didn't tell you about that, did I? Oops." He grinned at me sheepishly, and I rolled my sleepy eyes and told him to go on. I would deal with that later. "Then he came and started screaming that I was something come to deliver him from life and was I angel or devil and I was really confused so I just came back out and shut the door. And I think you should do something about it because he has gone stark-rabing mad. I mean raving. And maybe rabid too. I dunno." He stopped his fast recitation and looked at me to do something. I sighed and got out of the coffin which is my bed. It is actually very comfortable, but I suppose you wouldn't know nor care. I followed the excited Aaron out of my bedroom and into the 'mirrored room'. Once we reached the door, I motioned for Aaron to stay outside. If the guy had killed himself, I didn't need him seeing. Since that first night, he has never asked about the 'Opera Ghost', but I knew that he as getting curious about why we lived five stories under the opera house, and that he had started to spy on the ballet girls. Who knows what kind of rumors they were spreading. So I opened the door and made to go inside, but not before the man, who had not killed himself and I recognized as John Bell, ran out of the chamber and into the house. I cursed under my breath, then suddenly considered that I should warn Christine that we had a mad, possibly with the use of both meanings, man running around our house.

"Christine!" I called out. "Someone fell into the…er…mirrored room, and now is running around the house mad and possibly rabid!" I think I interrupted a dream or something. Because this was her reply:

"Save the cheese! At all costs, defend the cheese!" Aaron gave me a quizzical look, and I rolled my eyes. I also realized that I should try to catch the man currently running around my house. I ran to my room, which is, unfortunately, the route he took, and nearly screamed. My 'bed' was tipped over, there was sheet music everywhere, and the room was basically a mess. A great, big, mess. John Bell was there, in a corner. He appeared to have calmed down some, which I took to mean he was not rabid. I walked up to him, and instead of shrieking or running away, simply took this solution: he fainted.

--

While John (I'll just use his first name so I don't have to keep on writing 'John Bell'. Trust me, we are not on a first-name-basis) was out cold, I dragged him to the couch in the music room, and, with some difficulty, got him up onto it. Then, after dumping a bit of cold lake water on him to cool him down and see how unconscious he really was, I figured that I owed Aaron an explanation. But no way was I doing it without Christine.

"Christine! Can you come in here, please?" I shouted through the house. A very disheveled looking Christine walked into the music room.

"Did you save the cheese?" she asked. She had apparently not noticed that we had an unconscious person on our couch.

"Christine, dear, we don't _have_ any cheese. You're allergic to it, remember?"

"Oh. Right." Just then, she noticed John on the couch.

"Oh! What is _he_ doing here?" she screamed.

"Erm,,, he kinda fell in the _mirror room_. And I want to give Aaron an explanation." Aaron looked at me curiously, and Christine immediately lost all of her sleepiness. I started:

"Aaron, remember what the cab driver said when we brought you here?"

"Yes," Aaron answered happily and while bouncing up and down. All the events seemed to have made him very hyper, unless…

"Aaron, one moment on that. _Have you been at your mother's coffee????????" _

"Erm…well…um…I just wanted to see how it tasted! And then I thought that it tasted horrible, so I dared myself to drink the rest of the container, and I did, and then I wanted to eat something, so I found the sugar bowl, and _that_ was so good that I finished the entire thing, and then I felt kinda sick, so I went to lie down, an then I heard the guy screaming, and now I don't feel sick anymore because it went away after five minutes!"

"Um... well, I'll deal with that later. Back to what I was saying…" Suddenly, I was interrupted by Christine.

"_You drank all my coffee??????!!!!!!!!!_" came her horrified cry. "_Do you realize that we only go shopping once a week? And it's only Monday!!!!!!!!" _ Aaron shuffled his feet, while I tried my best to calm her down.

"Christine," I said as gently as I could, "why don't you stop talking in italics? And don't worry, I can go out and get you some more coffee. It's fine." So, with Christine calmed down, I went back to the matter at hand.

"So, anyway, remember what he said about the Opera Ghost?"

"Yeah I heard the ballet girls talking about him and they said that he has interchangeable heads and that he is a skeleton and that he goes around killing people who don't respect him!" he said, all in one breath.

"Erm… right. So, anyway, what do you think of him?"

"I think that he doesn't exist but if he did he would be pretty darn mean." Just then, the alarm bell went off. I muttered something that Aaron did not need to hear under my breath and sprinted off to the lake. I wanted this to take as little time as possible. When I got there, I found the boat overturned in the middle of the lake, and someone struggling in the water. I sighed and dived in. Within a few seconds of strong swimming, I could see that the drowning person was the Daroga. I sighed. Why does he always overturn the boat? It would make everything a heck of a lot easier if he could just deactivate the alarm like a showed him, and row the boat over and knock on the door. It really is very simple. Even Aaron can do it, and let's just say that he doesn't have my intellect. I grabbed Nadir by the arm, and swam back to shore, dragging him with me.

"Ah, Daroga, so glad you could join us. Oughtn't a policeman be a bit less forgetful?" He looked at me strangely, and I sighed. I swear, this man was getting less and less smart as he got older. Dismissing this with a wave of my hand, I brought him inside and gave him a towel, while I went to change into different formal wear.

"So, Nadir, you arrived just in time for our little _explanation_." I gave him a significant look, which he returned with one of understanding. Never mind what I said before about him not being to smart. The water was just cold.

"So, Aaron, where were we?"

"I was just saying that if the Opera Ghost existed, he would be pretty mean." A collective sigh went around the adults. This would be difficult.

"Why would he be mean?"

"Well, he's always making threats, and sometimes he kills people, and I heard that once he fell madly in love with this girl who was in love with someone else and he nearly killed the person who the girl was in love with but then he didn't and he let them go." A collective paling went around the adults, while Aaron continued. "But I don't think that that is true because if it were then he wouldn't be a ghost and I don't think its possible for a human being to be that mean. All this, of course, is supposing that he exists, which he doesn't." Christine excused herself and went to her room. I looked at the Persian hopefully, but he shook his head. This was my job. Meanwhile, Aaron watched the going on curiously.

"Why? Does he really exist? Is this theatre"-his voice quieted to a whisper-"Really _haunted_???"

"Well," I answered uncomfortably, "In a way." Aaron bounced up and down in excitement.

"Really? How do you know? Are the rumors true?" Nadir left the room.

"Well, erm, the one about the girl is. As for the others, I promise you I do not have interchangeable heads, or" Too late I realized my mistake.

"_You????" _ Aaron yelled. "_You _are The Phantom of the Opera???????"


	3. A Story and Silence

YAY!!!! UPDATES!!!! REALLY sorry I took so long. I started writing this chapter the day I put my second one up, but, something happened. I don't know what. But something did. RANDOM THING: I have a friend over who is pretending to alter my brain at the whim of my younger sister. She just finished and now is banging on the harpsichord in a futile attempt to show how annoying it is. It's working on Erik, though. (He is currently cowering in a corner with his hands over his head.) She just stopped. I didn't want to put Erik's past in description since this is supposed to be funny, so I'm just basing it on the Kay book. If you haven't read that, then you can make up your own gruesome story for him.

Review Reply:s

**BleedingHeartConservative:** Yayy!!!! I'm happy that you are enjoying it. It makes me so happy! Yeah I was never planning on making this serious I have difficulty with serious. Glad that you thought it funny, when I looked back on it I didn't think it really was but I am happy because it was supposed to be.

**AA:** umm…okay... (edges away slowly)

**Stateofmind7337: **Yay!!! I'm glad that you like it. The first chapter wasn't good, I know, so I want to know-does that mean that the second chapter was actually good, or that it was just better that the first?

Oh yeah, I need a disclaimer, don't I? Okay then, here it is.

**DISCLAIMER: Didn't I just tell you before that I don't own Phantom of the Opera? If I didn't then here I am telling you now and if I did then I am being repetitive.**

Okay, there. Happy? Good. Now, to the story.

"_You are the Opera Ghost??!!!"_ Aaron screamed again. I sighed. (Yes, I do a lot of sighing. I think I have ample reasons, do you not agree?) Nadir and Christine, upon hearing, the scream, seemed to have pity on me and came in.

"Well, Aaron," I started, "Haven't you ever wondered why we live in secret, five stories under the level of the ground, underneath an Opera House?"

"I thought that it was just because of the masks."

"Well…in a way, it is." And then, before I even knew what was happening, I found myself telling my life, with every gruesome detail included. The sad story which I had actually never told anyone completely, I was now pouring out to an audience of the only three people close to me. I didn't cut out anything: not the murders, nor the tortures, nor how Christine…came to me. After an hour of non-stop talking, I felt a weight being lifted inside of me, and flying away to somewhere I would never see it again, as if I had needed to tell this story my entire life. Once I finished, there was dead silence in the room.

"And _that_, Aaron, is why we live down here." There was still dead silence.

"Um, tea anyone?" I asked. Normally I wasn't this nervous, but I suddenly felt like I was a performer going on stage for the first time. All of a sudden, John Bell woke up and started screaming, making all of us jump about ten feet in the air. Being the quickest to recover, I grabbed a basket of roses (it may not sound like much, but actually, with about twenty roses in a straw basket…okay, it isn't much. But it was what was closest to me. And I am not the weakest person, you know.) and conked him over the head with it, effectively knocking him out.

"Excuse me, please, while I deal with this guy." I said to the still-startled people. Then I took him upstairs and dumped him in the same place Joseph Buquet (spelling?) 'committed suicide.' Then I came back down.

"So, again, does anyone want tea?" Everyone was still just staring. Suddenly, I wondered…

"WAKE UP, PEOPLE!!!" Everyone jumped again, which meant my shout had had the desired effect.

"Okay, okay, dad, we weren't sleeping." grumbled Aaron.

"Well, you sure seemed to be. So, for the third time, does anyone want tea?"

"Ooh, me! Me! I want tea!" shouted Aaron. "Hey, that rhymes. Like rhymes rhymes with limes!" I rolled my eyes.

"Does anyone _besides_ Aaron want tea?" Christine and Daroga shook their heads.

"Suit yourself." I went and made myself some tea, which took about ten minutes. When I came back in, Aaron immediately started talking.

"Hey, dad, can I EAT??" I blinked in confusion.

"I said, can I EAT?" Aaron repeated.

"Umm…sure. Why don't you ask Christine to make a sandwich or something for you?" I looked at Christine. "Christine, why don't you get Daroga something too?" Christine looked at me. I looked at her. Aaron looked at Daroga. Daroga looked at a painting on the wall. I sighed.

"Daroga, do you want something to eat?" Nadir looked at me. I pointed to Christine, with my thoughts on large buckets of freezing water.

"Umm…no thank you."

"Okay then."

**(A/N I couldn't really see this going anywhere so I decided just to start a new thing and end that bit. I know it isn't funny and really don't know what ever possessed me to write it.)**

ONE WEEK LATER

"Aaron, we are going to take you shopping." I said.

"Really?" came his excited reply. "Where? What are we getting? Are we going to be gone for the entire day? Will there be FOOD?" He said this all in one breath, and I hesitated for a moment, trying to process what he had just said. When I got it straightened out, I replied:

"We are going to different places. I don't know how long we'll be gone. There might be food." Aaron looked sulky.

"There might be? Why can't there be food?"

"If you don't stop whining, I know for a fact that there will not be food." Aaron still looked sulky, but let it go. I called out to Christine:  
"Christine, dear, we're going shopping! Come on!" Once he heard this, Aaron brightened up immediately, which sent warning bells ringing in my head. Christine loved to spoil Aaron, and I knew that he had an infinite number of techniques to make her get something for him. I also knew it wouldn't take many of these to persuade her. As we headed out the door, Aaron was already trying to persuade Christine to take him to a restaurant. Once we were in the middle of the lake, I heard him asking her to take him to a toy store, and, to my horror, I found she was agreeing. I knew he knew he wouldn't have to turn to me because I (almost) always did what Christine wanted. So I prepared for a long day ahead.

Stupid chapter, I know…stop throwing things! I'll try to make the next one better…I promise…oh yeah I have to say…idea for taking Aaron shopping belongs to my sister…she suggested that for the next chapter that everyone goes shopping…the first half of this was stupid I know so I decided to start her idea here…DOT DOT DOTS RULE!!!!!!!...


	4. A Walk

Sorry I took…um…I don't even know how long I took, but anyways, I'm sorry! Did you know that you can review your own story? I just did! I just figured out that since I reply to reviews via clicking the reply button, I don't really need to write review replies here. SO…without further ado, chapter two! No actually chapter four but two sounds better.

Erik: GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!! (displays lasso)

Me: Okay, okay! Here is chapter four!

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We ate at a fairly normal restaurant. Aaron didn't notice people staring, being his normal, bubbly childish self, and I ignored them. I didn't really pay attention to what Christine and Aaron were saying until Aaron turned to me and said,

"Hey, dad?"

"What?"  
"Did you seriously almost fall off the scaffolding(sp) while you were building the opera?" I shifted uncomfortably. Why did I include every last detail?

"Um…yes."

"Cool! You're not part cat after all!" I blinked. That had been rather unexpected.

"Umm…no, Aaron, I am not part cat." We walked part way to the toy store then Aaron saw a bunch of boys his age sword fighting.

"Hey dad, can I go over and play with them?" I shifted uncomfortably and looked at Christine.

"Well," I answered, "That might not be the best idea…" But it was too late. Aaron had already gone and Christine and I could only watch as all the boys stopped and looked at him. I heard them talking:

"What are you staring at? I didn't forget to put something on, did I?" He looked worriedly down at himself, and saw everything there. One of the boys sniggered.

"Well, do you notice anything different about you that's not on the rest of us?"

"Um…no, not really."

"Try your face."

"What? I didn't forget my mask, did I?" The boys stared, then started laughing.

"No, no, no! It's the fact that you have a mask in the first place, genius!" Aaron looked slightly embarrassed.

"Well, what's the matter with wearing a mask?"

"It's not exactly _normal_, if you know what I mean. Who else do you see wearing a mask?"

"My dad." I froze. I had been walking up to him, hoping to just walk him away without a word and let the boys whisper all they wanted, but now that Aaron had drawn attention to me, it would probably make it slightly difficult to do that.

"Hey, monsieur, why are you and your son wearing masks?"

"It is none of your business, boys. And now we will be leaving."

"Ah, no, dad, not yet!" Everyone stared at him in surprise. Oblivious to this, he went on: "Me and my friends where just about to start playing!" His 'friends' quickly noticed a possible way to torment him (beating him in a sword fight and doing who knows what) and quickly began to play along, though Aaron did not know that they were playing.

"Yes, monsieur, please let him stay a bit longer!"

"Why does he have to go? He just got here."

"We just want to have a little swordfight. Look, the swords are wooden. They couldn't do anything." I finally gave in, and stood back to watch them fight. I couldn't help but smile as I saw Aaron beat boy after boy in the fights. I had taught him, and he had a great time learning the art of swordsmanship, and showing it off here. The boys started to make prizes, and Aaron won again and again. He wouldn't want to go to the toy store after this. Then, one boy said,

"If you beat me, I'll give you my sword. If I beat you, you have to take off the mask." Aaron, Christine and I all stiffened. The boy either didn't notice, or pretended not to.

"Come on, you've beat everyone so far. I am almost certainly parting with my sword tonight. And you know what? My dad runs the sword academy, and if you win this fight, I'll persuade him to let you attend." Aaron agreed, and the fight began. The boy was by far the best fighter there, probably because his father ran the Academy. Aaron feinted to the low to the left then cut in high to the right side of his neck, but the boy blocked and moved in to Aaron. I don't know if Aaron was tired from all of his previous fights, I don't know if the boy was truly better than Aaron, but suddenly Aaron was kneeling on the ground with the boys sword at his throat, panting.

"I won!" cried the boy triumphantly. And then, suddenly, he tore the mask away from Aarons face.

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There was a disbelieving silence. Then one of the boys screamed. But then, Aaron, Christine and I all got a huge shock. After he screamed, he dissolved into a laughing fit. Soon they were all laughing.

"That's why you wear a mask? Hey, my brother looks like that. No one really cares! What do you think it is, the fifteenth century?" Aaron blinked. I blinked. Christine said,

"No, but…er…my husband here…um…" They all looked at her expectantly.

"I don't trust people." I cut in sharply. Now everyone looked at me.

"Why ever not?" asked one of the boys. Now it was my turn to stutter.

"Um…er…for good reasons! That's all you need to know." They shrugged. Then, one of the one who said that he had a brother who looked like us said,

"Hey! Could you come over to my house? I have more stuff to do there." Christine agreed, and everyone looked at me.

"Um…well…" Despite what the boys had said, I was still kind of nervous.

"Please, dad?" asked Aaron.

"Fine." I answered. And so we all followed the boy to his house.

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My first impression was size. His house wasn't really a house, no, it was a mansion. The boys went inside joyfully with Aaron in the middle of their pack, Christine followed, happy that Aaron had made some friends, and I came last, crossing the threshold hesitantly. His parents came into the room.

"Why, who are these people?" his mother asked. Christine introduced herself and Aaron, (who was still maskless) and she shook their hands warmly. Aaron kissed her hand politely. I still hung back, feeling very awkward.

"And who might this gentleman be?" Christine, seeing my nervous state, decided that I wasn't going to be able to do anything intelligent without prompting. I am slightly ashamed to say, she hit the nail on the head.

"Erik, come on, meet Madam Dubois." I came forward slowly, and she shook my hand warmly.

"It's nice to meet you, Monsieur…"

"Erik." I whispered. "Just Erik."

"Well then, Erik and Christine, let's leave the boys to do whatever, and you can come into the parlor for some tea." Christine and Madam Dubois went into another room, chatting away, and I followed miserably. I overheard them talking.

"Your husband seems very…well…nervous. What's the matter with him?"

"He isn't exactly the best in public. He had some…bad experiences, you see…trust me, he's not like this at home!" She laughed the last part. Then she got serious again. "But please, don't do anything to make him even more nervous. I'm trying to show him that not everyone is going to mock him, but it hasn't been going very well so far…" I barely registered that they were talking about me as if I were a dog. We got to the parlor, and Christine and Madam Dubois sat down. I remained standing.

"Erik, sit down. Here, you can sit right here on the couch, next to Christine." I went over and sat in my assigned place. Some one brought in three cups of tea.

"Would you like some tea, Erik?" I nodded and took a cup.

"Um, Erik, you're supposed to drink it, not crush the cup." I looked down and discovered that I had been gripping the cup so hard that it had been about to crack. I loosened my grip, embarrassed, and drank. Just then, a boy came in.

"Ah, Pierre! You sleepyhead! Meet Madam Daae and Erik." Pierre walked over and shook our hands.

"Good day, Madam Daae and…Erik."

"The boys are upstairs, Pierre." said Madam Dubois. Since you're the oldest, I expect you to make sure nothing gets broken, you hear me?" He nodded and ran off.

"So," said Madam Dubois, "that is my eldest son, Pierre. He really is a nice boy, but he is a big sleepyhead." I nodded.

"You don't make him wear a mask?" I asked. He had looked just like Aaron!

"No!" she answered. She sounded disgusted. "What a revolting idea! Why would I ever make him do that?" Then she seemed to register my mask. "Oh. Um…you could take that off, if you want." I shook my head desperately. The mask would be kept on.

"Oh, come on, I insist." I shook my head again. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I was slightly tired. I heard Christine say,

"Oh, no, that might not be the best idea," and then, there was air on my suddenly bare face…

I screamed and leaped from the couch, ran to the wall and leaned against it, making sure my face wasn't showing.

"I told you no!" I shouted. "_I told you no!"_ Someone was behind me, but I didn't turn around.

"Erik…it's fine. Come back to the couch, now…"

"_Give me the mask!_"

"No, Erik," Madam Dubois said firmly, "You are going to come to the couch and we will have a civilized conversation, _without_ the mask. I don't know why you like it so much, after all, it can't be that comfortable."

"No!"

"Erik," she said disapprovingly, "I demand that you stop this childish fit right now. You are a grown man, for heavens sake!" Christine came up.

"Erik," she said softly, "Just come to the couch." I spun around.

"Fine! Fine!" I stalked to the couch and sat down angrily. The ladies followed.

"So, Erik, where do you live?"

"None of you business." I muttered. Madam Dubois was shocked.

"Erik! Is that how you talk to a lady?"

"Yes." Christine looked at me.

"Erik, Madam Dubois is right. You need to stop sulking like a child. No one really cares what you look like, so you really have no excuse for your behavior."

"Fine then!" I threw up me hands, exasperated. "I will just tell you, Madam Dubois, that we live on an underground lake, five stories under the Opera, and that you are talking to the Phantom of the Opera, who happens to be a murderer, and you just told him to stop acting like a child!"

"Yes, I did, Monsieur Opera Ghost, and this is just more reason. Really! The Opera Ghost, throwing a fit like a child! The managers would never listen to you again if they heard about this! Your reputation would be destroyed!" I stared at her in disbelief.

"Um…excuse me, are you right in the head?

"Yes," she said angrily, "I am perfectly sane. Now I want you to meet my husband."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

I know, I know! Stop throwing things! This chapter isn't funny, and it is really random. I really wasn't expecting it, I swear. It just sort of…came out. Stupid place to stop, too, but it was getting long and I just wanted to post it. If BleedingHeartConservative is reading this, I know what you are going to say. You are going to say,

'That was so random, there aren't even words! So he just _happens_ to run into a boy who's brother looks just like him and Aaron! This is just to random!' Other people will probably say that too. In answer, let's just pretend, for the sake of the story, that it was an epidemic. Okay? Okay. YAY!!!!! Sorry…that was…random. Anyways, this author's note seems to be way to long, so, until next chapter.

HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!!!!! 2009!!!!!!!!


	5. Big Surprise and Questions

HELLO PEOPLE!!!!!!!! I'm really sorry that I took so long to update…I had this chapter finished one or two days after I wrote chapter four, but it was in a notebook and every time I started to type I had to do homework or something. Sorry. BIG THANK YOU TO ALL OF MY REVIEWERS!!!! Seriously! 17 reviews for 4 chapters, you guys are AMAZING!!! The idea for this chapter came from BleedingHeartConservative (who did not say what I thought she would) but I can't tell you what because it would ruin it! So too bad! You will never know…until the a/n at the end! So you will have to wait! By the way, this is another not funny chapter. It is crucial, though, so bear with me! NOTE: If you haven't read Kay, (_Phantom_ by Susan Kay) this could be rather confusing at points. SO GO READ IT! Read it anyways. It is a wonderful book. Unless, of course, you are A. Under the age of 12 or B. My sister, in which case I don't think you should ever read it. By the way, we meet another 'Aaron', so I will spell the kid's name I as I already was, and the grown-up will be spelled 'Erin' Enough ranting! On with the story!

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

"Erin!" called Madame Dubois, while I groaned. I didn't particularly want to meet her husband, and another 'Aaron' would make things confusing. "Come downstairs and meet our guests!"

"We have guests?" came the reply. "Why doesn't anyone ever _tell_ me these things?

"I just did, now come on!" A man came into the room, and he looked _exactly_ like me. We stared at each other for a moment, then he shook his head and sat down.

"Erin, this is Madame Christine Daae, and this is Erik, also known as the Opera Ghost, and all the names that go with that." Aaron shook hands with us while staring at me with an intensity that made me even more uncomfortable that I already was.

"Nice to meet you, Madame Daae, Erik?" He said my name as a question. "Is that really your name?"

"Yes." I replied coldly. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Oh no…not at all…what was your mother's name?" I stiffened.

"You have no need to know that." He persisted,

"Was it Madeline?

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

I froze.

"Excuse me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I said, was your mother's name Madeline? And did you know a Mademoiselle Perrault?"

"How did you know?" I whispered.

"Because." He answered gently. "Madeline was my mother."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

I leaned back against the couch. This day was too much for me…too much in too short a time…Erin's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"She often spoke of you, Erik."

"No…" I whispered, "she couldn't of. She hated me." Aaron looked insulted.

"Mother?" he scoffed. "Hate? Her own son? I doubt she would be capable of hating a spider." I looked up at him in surprise.

"Maybe we're thinking of different people, then." Memories of a time before the gypsies, before any murders, flooded my head-my mother saying she hated me…threatening to send me to the lunatic asylum…talking to Doctor Barye while they thought I was asleep…I closed my eyes against the torrent of memories, but nothing could stop the flow.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

I have no recollection of falling asleep, but I do remember opening my eyes and finding the three of them, Erin, Madame Dubois, and Christine surrounding me, looking worried. I tried to get away from them, not yet remembering what had happened.

"Who are you?" I asked fearfully. "Where am I? Christine, what is going on?"

"Shh…" Christine responded soothingly. To the others, she said,

"Poor thing, all of this was probably too much for him. Firstly, he's stressed whenever he goes out, period. Then meeting people, for the first time in his life, who did not judge him because of his mask. Then meeting two people who look like him and live a perfectly normal life, the way he fears he never can. _Then_ discovering that one of these people was his _brother._ Can you imagine it? No wonder he passed out." At this, I started. Me? Pass out? Most certainly not! I had just fallen asleep!

"I…didn't pass out." I protested feebly. "I fell asleep." At this, every one laughed.

"Of course, my dear, of course." Christine replied. Just then, Aaron skidded into the room in his socks.

"Um…Madame, Monsieur, Pierre said to come get you. We had…kind of…a problem…" Seeing me laying on the couch, he added, "What happened to dad?"

"Oh, nothing." Answered Christine Erin walked towards the stair well. "Just got a bit of a shock, that's all."

"Oh." Said Aaron and he followed Erin upstairs.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

I heard some shouting, some mumbled excuses, and then Erin came back in, muttering about 'stupid boys'. He came over to the couch and sat down next to me, as I had sat up and Christine and Madame Dubois sat down next to me. He asked,

"So, Erik, how are you?"

"Fine." I responded, not sounding fine at all. He took no notice of this and said,

"Well, in that case, let the interrogation begin." I looked at him, alarmed, and he grinned. (Best he could, anyway.)

"What?" he asked laughingly "You didn't think I'd let you leave without finding anything out about my brother? Not that you're in any condition to leave, anyway." He added thoughtfully. I looked fearful, I know, for he said,

"Oh, don't look so afraid! Questions can't kill you. Besides, you get to ask me questions too. So let us begin…why do you think mother hated you?"

"Because she told me so." I replied simply.

"And you believed her? She just said, once, 'I hate you' and you believed her? Really, I expected more." I got angry.

"Fine then!" I shouted. "You want me to tell you how it radiated from her every move, when I didn't have her under my spell? You want me to tell you ho she feared my voice, and beat me if I didn't wear my mask every waking second? You want me to tell you how she refused to kiss me, when I asked, as a present, on my fifth birthday? How that same night, she dragged me upstairs and showed me myself, for the first time in a mirror and how it was Mademoiselle Perrault, not her, who pulled the glass from my hands and wrists and bound them when I smashed it? How she plotted with Doctor Barye to put me in a lunatic asylum and run away together when they thought I was asleep, drugged with laudanum? Is that what you want? _Is it?_" I was standing up, and once I had finished I slumped back down on the couch, exhausted.

"Erik…" said Madame Dubois, obviously trying to comfort me.

"And I hate pity." I mumbled. Erin was staring at his hands.

"Could that really be my mother?" I heard him murmur to himself. "She always spoke of you with such love…"

"Aaron," I said softly, and he looked up at me in surprise. "I'm sorry for shouting. It's just…a very _touchy _subject for me."

"Yes," he nodded, "I can imagine that…Well!" he said, with sudden cheerfulness, "It's your turn to ask a question!" I thought for a moment.

"What did Doctor Barye think when he saw you? Was he revolted? Did he leave?" Erin looked confused.

"Doctor Barye?" he asked.

"Your father? Monsieur Barye? I _heard_ them talking about leaving! I _know _they got married! What did he say?"

"Erik," Erin said softly, "Doctor Barye wasn't my father. I don't _have_ a father." He paused. "Well, _technically_ I do, but, I've never met him, you know…mother never remarried." I sagged. How could this be? Had I truly run away for nothing?

"And now, it is MY turn for a question!" Erin said brightly. I sighed, which only made him smile wider than he already was. "What happened after you ran away?" I gulped. Telling this had been so much easier the first time! Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that I actually knew the people who were listening…

"I hid in the forest for a week, and then, in search of food, wandered into a Gypsy camp." I heard a soft gasp of anticipation, and shifted uncomfortably. "They took off my mask…and…um…the next day…I woke up…in a cage." The last part, I whispered. I heard Erin and Madam Dubois gasp.

"How old were you?" mumbled Aaron.

"Oh…eight…nine…I'm not sure.

"Surely you would remember something like that?" asked Madam Dubois.

"You can't remember what you never knew in the first place." I answered.

"How old are you now?" asked Erin suddenly. I hung my head.

"I…um…don't precisely know." I muttered.

"Oh, you must have some idea! What's your birthday? What year were you born?" If it were possible, I became more slouched.

"I…don't know." I admitted, ashamed.

"Well then," said Madam Dubois, "We shall have to see to that immediately." I looked at her, confused.

"What?" I asked.

"Why, your going to choose a birthday, of course!" _That_ alarmed me.

"Um…I don't really think that's necessary…" I said, feeling awkward.

"Of course it is! Everyone needs a birthday!"

"Er…I'd rather not…"

"Oh, come on! Why ever not?"

"I…um…don't exactly _like _birthdays…"

"Oh, of course you do! Pick a special date, Erik!"

"A special date?" I asked, feeling rather stupid.

"Yes, you can't just pick a random date to be your birthday! How about the day you got married? The day Christine discovered she was pregnant?" (A/N I feel UNBELIVEBLY awkward writing that, but it is necessary as an intro to the next little part) Christine and I exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"Well…" I started, "Aaron wasn't exactly _born_ to us…"

"What ever do you mean?"

"I more of…_stole_ him." I heard them gasp.

"Erik! A kidnapper? Really…"

"No, no!" I quickly interrupted, "Not like that! I took Christine to the Gypsy fair-"

"Really? Interrupted Erin. "Wow, that was…brave of you." I shifted uncomfortably. I wasn't used to praise, and didn't know how to respond.

"Um…thanks. So we went and we saw Aaron, in a cage being beaten by a gypsy while people laughed. So I attacked him and stole Aaron. It's pretty much the only thing in my life I've _not_ regretted."

"What do you mean, the only thing you've not regretted?" inquired Erin suspiciously.

"Um…isn't it my turn to ask questions now?" I asked nervously. I saw Erin look at me suspiciously, but he nodded, and I went on.

"Are you a genius?" He looked at me in surprise.

"What?"

"Are you a great architect? Composer? Magician?"

"Um…no, I just have a normal brain."

"Are you telling me my own brother isn't musical?" I asked in horror. "Sing." I suddenly demanded.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, sing."

"Um…I'd rather not…"

"Now!" He looked at me uncomfortably, but began to sing something from Faust.

"STOP!" I shouted a few notes in. Erin looked insulted. Erin looked insulted.

"I didn't want to! I suppose you could do so much better." In response, I began to sing the same song he had been singing. By the end of the song, both he an Madame Dubois were staring, open-mouthed.

"I'm related to this man?" I heard Erin mutter. I smiled. Unfortunately, he soon remembered that it was his turn to ask a question.

"What happened to you at the Gypsy camp?" he asked suddenly. I sighed.

"I was tied into an upright coffin and displayed, for a time. Then I struck a bargain with my master, Javert." I shuddered as I spoke my former jailers name. "I said that if he would give me my own tent, not in the cage, and give me back the mask, if he put lilies in the coffin with me I would make them sing. After a bit of persuading, he agreed. And so I spent a couple years performing like that, adding more and more complex magic to my show. I hated taking off the mask, the horrified hush that would come over the crowd! But I had to do it. Then…something happened that I would rather not talk about. It involved Javert saying…that he thought he would eventually need to teach me this, and that 'no woman would ever want me as he did." My voice cracked. "It ended before anything could happen. By…me killing him." I put my head in my hands, closed my eyes, and waited for them to say something. I got what I least expected. Madame Dubois's arms were suddenly around me.

"Poor Erik!" she said, and patted my stiff back. I was caught completely off guard.

"Did you hear me" I asked uncertainly. "I said I killed him. I was a murderer at the age of twelve."

"And I say thank goodness he's gone!" she responded passionately. "What a _horrible_ man!" I stiffened even more and she let go. Erin patted my head.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Erik." I sank low into the couch.

"I already told you." I muttered. "I hate pity. And now it's my turn again."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

An hour later, Erin and Madame Dubois know everything about my past. In turn, I learned that Erin had had a normal childhood and led a normal life, and had never once worn a mask. I was amazed. Eventually, it was time to leave. Christine invited Erin, Madame Dubois, Pierre, and Thomas (the boy Aaron had fought with) to-of all things to do!-come to our house for dinner. When she said this, I just gaped at her. They, of course, immediately accepted, laughing as I stared open-mouthed. And so there were seven people in the house on the lake that night.

It isn't funny, I know, but I think that it is okay, at least. I hope that you had as much fun reading it as I had writing! Okay, you probably didn't, but hey! It's worth a shot! I know, you guys are all mad at me for naming the husband Erin, but I just thought that Madeline would have been really unhappy at his running away, and would have named her next child to resemble his name…(you know? Erik, Erin?) So, yeah, sorry about that. The idea for them all being family, in case you haven't guessed yet, came from BleedingHeartConservative so thank you a lot! It was a great idea! Um…I can't really think of anything else to say…I know! I thought of something! I'LL STOP RANTING NOW!!!

'till next time

goodbye


	6. Revenge is Sweet

**Okay…I know that any groveling apologies of mine are completely useless, so why don't I just skip them? … …. ….. I'm very very very sorry for taking so long. I don't even want to think about how long I took. So now, without further ado, chapter six.**

--

I went home in a daze, with six chatting people behind me. After a long, heated argument with Madame Dubois, she had finally 'persuaded' me to go maskless, namely, throwing the mask on the fire. She said, 'It was time to overcome the past' or some garbage like that. I had just sulked. Pierre suddenly ran up to my side.

"Erik?" he asked.

"Yes, Pierre?"

"Why did you wear a mask?" Suddenly Thomas was at my other side.

"Yes, Erik, please do tell! Does it have something to do with that you don't trust people?" I sighed. There would obviously be no escape until I told them _something._ So I did:

"When I was eight or nine, a cruel man put me in a cage and tied me in a coffin when people came to stare." Pierre and Thomas gasped.

"Poor Erik," they both said, hugging me. I stiffened. If people were going to keep doing this, I would tell them someone set a dragon on me! Really! I nudged them away.

"Why don't you go talk to Aaron now?" They happily complied. We walked through the streets of Paris until we reached the side of the Opera. Our four guests looked confused.

"Why are we here?" Erin asked. "Shouldn't we go in the door?"

"There are more doors here than meet the eye," I replied mysteriously, and disappeared into the wall, leaving the trapdoor open and watching their amazement in delight. I was in the shadows-they could not see me. I threw my voice to be in front of them, saying,

"Hellos, and welcome to the Opera. I will be you guide tonight." I watched them look around in surprise and smiled. I was mainly getting back at my brother (how strange it is to say that!) for something that he had done. I was a nervous wreck the entire time I was answering questions about my past, but during the Persian part, I was…_extremely_ ashamed. When I finished, Aaron had said, with his voice cracking,

"So…so my brother…is a monster after all." I was half-expecting this and he sounded very convincing, so I just nodded, stood up, and was running out of the room when Aaron said,

"Hey, where are you going? Get back here, I was only joking." I looked at him in disbelief, then walked back to the couch, going out of my way to kick his shin. So now, I figured it was my turn to trick him. Of course, Christine just _had_ to ruin it.

"Erik," she shouted disapprovingly, "Stop hiding and using your ventriloquist tricks. Really, what kind of host are you?"

"Tell Aaron to be the host," I grumbled as I appeared beside Erin. He jumped, and I laughed and told him,

"Remember that you are dealing with the Opera Ghost, and are in his domain now," I hissed, making my voice rotate around him, even though he could see me next to him. At his frightened expression, I laughed.

"Revenge is sweet," I said, letting my voice return to my mouth. Erin looked at me and shoved. I shoved him back, but forgot to look where I pushed…

SPLASH!

"What the heck is the matter with you, Erik, now I'm all wet, seriously, look where you shove, what the heck is a lake doing down here anyway?" I just grinned and reached down to help him out, when suddenly, I was in the water next to him.

"Revenge is sweet," Erin said matter-of-factly. Just then, I heard laughter from both the back of me, and the front. I knew the others would be laughing, but who could be in the front? Looking up, I saw the boat, with the Daroga in it, laughing hysterically.

"Beware the siren!" I shouted, diving in. Before he could register my words, the boat was overturned and there were three people in the water.

"Revenge is sweet!" I called out to the shore, causing the five dry people to laugh even harder. "And I do not enjoy being laughed at," I added. And then I had pulled Aaron, Thomas, and Pierre into the lake as well.

"Be very grateful you're ladies," I told the two who remained on dry land.

"We are," they laughed, "We are."

--

So we had eight people in the house on the lake for dinner, six of whom were soaking wet. The Daroga was finding the whole dinner-affair funny, as Madame Dubois wouldn't stop trying to make me eat.

"Really, Erik," she fussed, "Have some of the delicious rolls! You're too thin!" On and on she went, until I finally gave in. While I was nibbling at the roll, I heard some stifled laughing. I looked up to find the Daroga laughing into his napkin. I glared at him.

"Watch it, Persian, unless you don't attach great importance to your life."

"Erik!" Madame Dubois reprimanded. "Death threats are not polite!" I silently seethed, and the Daroga redoubled his sniggering.

"And as for you, Monsieur Khan," she started, turning to the Daroga, who immediately sobered up and looked apprehensive. "Really! You're a grown man, surely you know better than to laugh at someone trying to create more normal habits! Really, you people!" she sighed as I tried to calm myself from the phrase, 'create more normal habits'. "What will I ever do with you?"

"Why don't you ask Christine?" I suggested innocently. "She's been dealing with the two of us for _years._" Madame Dubois glared a me, and I returned to nibbling at my roll, muttering.

--

After dinner, the boys went to Aaron's room to do…whatever boys do, and the adults went to the parlor to talk.

"So," Erin said, "Shall the questioning recommence?"

"_No_!" I exclaimed, horrified. Everyone stared at me. "I mean…you have sucked me dry of every detail of my past. What more could you want?" Nadir raised an eyebrow.

"Have you told them about the slave girl?"

"Yes."

"The murder of the Grand Vizar?" (spelling?)

"Yes."

"The execution of the Babis?" (again, spelling?)

"Yes!"

"Reza?" Nadir's voice came in a whisper.

"Yes," I answered softly.

"Come on!" exclaimed Erin suddenly. "There's _got_ to be _something_!"

"Oh, leave the poor man alone," Madame Dubois interfered before I could retort. I nodded gratefully to her. Suddenly, Christine piped up.

"I've been being rather quiet for a while, and I'm TIRED of it!" We all looked at her. "Er…um…does anyone want some tea?" And with that, Christine left the room.

--

**I feel like this is one of my shorter chapter, so sorry. Guess what? I've just gotten obsessed with Monty Python's Flying Circus! I'm not allowed to see any of the movies, though… ******** The 'Storytime' sketch, along with the 'British Dental Association' (or whatever it's called) sketch! "There's nothing going on!" I nearly died watching those…I really want to see/hear/something to that effect! the Ken Hill Phantom, but I can barely find it on youtube. I haven't searched amazon for a soundtrack yet, but if anyone knows anyway I can listen to it, please tell! I am COMEPLETELY out of ideas for this story, so if anyone has any idea for anything to do, please tell me!**

'**Till next chapter**


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